


Majesty

by ArgentGale



Category: Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Anal, Mitth'raw'nuruodo - Freeform, Other, Porn With Plot, Tentacle Porn, This is trash, Thrawn gets it on with a god, bondage kinda, classy sophisticated tentacle porn, dubcon, more plot than you would expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9745103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentGale/pseuds/ArgentGale
Summary: Thrawn travels to a distant world to commune with a mysterious being.The meeting is mutually satisfying.





	

“I do not like it, Sir.” Pellaeon furrowed his brow and pointedly turned his attention towards the viewport where the planet of Pirath loomed.  “I…don’t like you going down there alone.”

Thrawn sniffed.  “I appreciate your concern, Captain. However, I will not be completely alone. Rukh will be accompanying me.  As he always does.  And this isn’t the first time I shall be visiting these people.  You seem to forget I have already met their leader and arranged this little…meeting.”

Pellaeon’s brow furrowed. “I understand, Sir but still.  The Mira’thiri are a very secretive, and rather primitive, race.   We are not certain with whom their allegiance lay.  You could be stepping into a trap.  It would make perfect sense.” Pellaeon’s voice trailed off and he pursed his lips.  “Sir, with all due respect isn’t there another way for you to study this…thing?  Do you really need to take a hands on approach, as it were?   There has to be another way for you to…how do you put it…gain insight.”  Pellaeon’s lips twisted in distaste.  

Thrawn said nothing, calmly moving to stand beside the agitated captain.

There was silence for a few heartbeats.  Finally Thrawn ventured, “I appreciate your concern but I assure you I will be fine.  The Mira’thiri are rather content to create art and meditate.  It would seem that malice is not part of their nature.  I do not think it would even occur to them to betray me, betray the Empire, in such a way.” Thrawn met Pellaeon’s gaze, and his red eyes flared briefly.  “If they were to do something so…foolish, you have your orders.  Hail the Ruination and the Talon and turn the surface of that planet to cinder.”  Thrawn’s lips twisted in a rueful smile. “And if such would be the case, collectors across the galaxy should rejoice as their Mira’thiri pieces will exponentially increase in value.

“Y...yes, Sir.  But I certainly hope it does not come to that.”   Pellaeon returned his gaze to the viewport heaving a heavy sigh in resignation.  He would never fully understand Thrawn’s insatiable thirst to study backwater planets in his never ending quest to gather knowledge that would aid in his tactics.  Thrawn did things his way, and even though he often failed to grasp the complexities and nuances of Thrawn’s plans, Pellaeon had to admit that more often than not things transpired exactly as Thrawn wished them to.  Even if, in Pellaeon’s mind, these things were foolish and, at times, put the Admiral in unnecessary peril.

Thrawn’s voice rumbled. “I leave the Chimera in your hands, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Rukh.”  Thrawn called sharply.

Rukh’s hulking form seeped from a shadow where he had been lurking, quietly observing the conversation.  The Noghri shot Pellaeon a baleful glance before slinking in step behind Thrawn’s departing form.

Pellaeon shuddered.  He supposed he should have felt some bit of comfort that Thrawn was taking that dreadful bodyguard of his with him and yet the Noghri unsettled Pellaeon.  The way Rukh was always skulking and slinking about like a sinister shadow.    _Death’s shadow_ , Pellaeon mused and he could not help but wonder that one day it would settle upon him at Thrawn’s behest.   Another shudder made its way down Pellaeon’s spine as he turned his attention once more to the viewport and the mysterious green planet that turned below.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pirath was a lush planet teeming with life.  It was unsettled and uncivilized, carpeted with thick, lush rainforest, swamps, and marshlands.   There were no sprawling cities.  No commerce or trade.  Instead, its retiring inhabitants, the Mira’thiri, kept to simple, primitive settlements that harmonized with their surroundings rather than attempt to dominate them. The planet escaped notice due to the fact it held no resources that could be plundered.  It was a planet enrobed by myth and mysticism. Adding to Pirath’s mystique was the fact that any time animal or plant life was collected for either study or to be placed in private bestiaries and botanical exhibits, it seemed they expired rather quickly, oftentimes before reaching their destinations.

While their technology was nonexistent, the Mira’thiri’s mosaics and artwork were highly sought after.  Due to their rather extraordinarily long lifespans, they had time to refine and master intricate techniques.  Oftentimes a single piece would take years upon years to complete.  Each work incorporated the intensely hued pigments, stones, even scales and feathers, which were gleaned from the various soils, flora and fauna of the planet.  Indeed so unique were their materials, certain hues could not be replicated on other worlds which only added to the complexity and uniqueness of these pieces. 

Palpatine himself had possessed an exquisite mural, the name of which roughly translated as “The Map of Creation”.  Each time Thrawn had chance to study it, it offered a new nuance. A secret.  It seemed to change appearance depending upon the time of day it was viewed, the play of light upon its surface.  Thrawn had secretly coveted that piece more than any other and the Emperor never offered how it had come to be in his possession.

It was Thrawn’s research and study of this mural he had come to learn of an ancient being that dwelled amongst the Mira’thiri and was rumored to have a hand in their exquisite artistic skills.  Thrawn tried to learn as much as he could, pouring through records going back thousands of years, but only found bits and scraps, more myth than concrete facts.  It would take a hands on approach and so he had carefully arranged this meeting. 

The subtle threat of having your home world blasted into oblivion was a very good convincer and the leader had solemnly granted Thrawn an audience with this mysterious muse.

The shuttle landed in a small clearing claimed from the thick tangle of vines and trees, its wings folding primly as it settled with a slight jolt.  Thrawn descended the ramp with Rukh skulking behind him.  Thrawn grimaced as the humidity pressed around him.  Not three steps down the ramp and his uniform felt sodden and heavy against his skin.

Screeches and strange howls filled the air.   A great winged beast glided overhead, casting Thrawn in its immense shadow.  It uttered a strangled ‘quoark’ as it banked, its massive wings beating ponderously through the thick air. It peered down at Thrawn with a round silver eye as large as a serving plate, before making its way to the east.

A small party of Mira’thiri had assembled to greet him.  They were a frail look species, stooped in posture with spindly limbs and long pensive faces, clad in diaphanous robes that resembled a gossamer mist.  Their watery grey eyes blinked thoughtfully as Thrawn and Rukh approached them.  Thrawn watched as their smooth skin rippled with color, shifting from various greens and then deepening to a brilliant blue before smoothing back into shades of green yet again.  Thrawn had come to the conclusion these pigmentary changes were in accordance to their mood. 

The leader stepped forward, bowed slightly, and addressed Thrawn with a voice soft and lyrical. In basic it trilled, “We welcome you back, Mitth’naw’nuruodo.” 

Thrawn bowed slightly, recalling that the leader’s name was Poth.  It rankled him slightly that Poth chose to address him by his formal name and not simply “Sir”, or “Lord” or even “Admiral”.   

Poth, paused, and then again bowed deeply before continuing, “We are honored by your visit and hope that your stay here is an enlightening one, for on this visit you have come to confer with Majesty, yes?”

Thrawn said nothing, only narrowing his eyes and then nodding in agreement.  “I have. Yes.”

Thrawn then took a moment to study what he presumed was the temple holding this mysterious entity.  This…Majesty.   Of course Majesty was not its true name.  In their previous meeting, over cups of bitter tea, Poth had patiently explained that “majesty” was the closest word in basic that could most adequately describe this being.   Thrawn had attempted saying the creature’s true name, but had failed miserably.   It was just a long garbled mass of trill, chirrs, and strange syllables that his tongue stumbled over.

So “Majesty” it was.

The temple rose hulking, ominous, and somewhat out of place amongst the cheerful sunlit greenery.  It appeared to be hewn from a black stone that held no sheen and its matte surface reflected no light. Thick, ropy vines with wickedly crooked thorns as big as Thrawn’s fingers wended their way up the sides. There were no windows that Thrawn could see.  The entrance a simple door with no sign or sigil announcing what was contained within.  

 Thrawn returned his attention back to Poth.  “May we begin?”  Thrawn’s voice seemed unnaturally loud in the thick stillness.  Thrawn paused, all at once noting that the surrounding forest had now gone still. Rukh even seemed uneasy, working his jaw and shifting his weight from side to side in tense agitation.   No longer was there the background cacophony of howls or trills.  The air, if possible, seemed to have grown even more oppressive.  It was like breathing through a thick, wet blanket. 

It was as if the planet and all its inhabitants were collectively holding its breath, waiting.  Waiting for this outsider to make a move.   

Thrawn’s muscles tensed, fingers reflexively brushing the grip of the blaster at his side.

Poth’s face remained neutral and mild. Time was of no consequence.  It could wait centuries, if need be. Finally, it nodded, blinking slowly.  Gesturing with a clawed hand, Poth and his retinue turned and made their way towards the temple.  None glanced back to make sure Thrawn followed.    

Shooting a sideways glance at Rukh, Thrawn fell into step behind them.

Stopping a few meters from the temple, Poth turned to regard Thrawn.  His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered to a reverent, hushed tone.  “Now then, your companion and your…weapon…must stay behind.”  Another slow blink. “You enter alone. Once you enter the chamber, take your place upon the platform and do not step down or try to leave until your commune is completed.  If you choose to leave beforehand...your life shall cease.  A sacrifice, no longer a commune.”

Thrawn’s lips twisted into a smirk.  “Sacrifice?  And how, exactly, will I know when I am permitted to leave this platform?”

Closing his eyes, Poth bowed his head slightly.  “You will know, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.  Now go.   Do not fear.  Your companion will be safe until you return.  We shall wait.”  Poth paused, and he and his companions then stated in unison, “May you find that which you seek, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

Thrawn offered a tight smile and nodded which as much grace and humility as he could muster.  “The Empire and I thank you, Poth, for this opportunity.”

Poth said nothing, meeting Thrawn’s gaze with a resigned look.  It was as if it knew that high above, unseen but watching, death waited to strike if there were any resistance to Thrawn’s wishes.  

By an unseen signal the heavy door swung inward, ponderous and silent revealing nothing but a deep, yawning blackness.

Poth extended a spindly arm. “Go.  And heed my words.  Remain humble upon the platform until Majesty has finished commune.”

Before proceeding, Thrawn turned to Rukh, passing him his weapon and quietly murmuring, “Remember.  If I do not return safe and whole, kill them all.”

“Yesss my lord.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As he stepped through the door’s threshold it took a few moments for Thrawn’s eyes to adjust to the gloom.  He had fully expected the door to close behind him but it remained open, casting a feeble light so that he was able to see a few meters before him. Aside from that there was nothing to illuminate his way. Thrawn had to trust there were no obstacles, or traps, lying in wait before him.

Inside the temple the air was just as thick and oppressive as it was outside. Perhaps even more so.  Thrawn’s ears strained to catch any sound, any warning of what might be lying in wait ahead. 

He heard nothing. Only the sound of his own breathing the thunder of his blood in his ears.

The air was heavy with the sweet/musty scent of decaying vegetation.

The corridor proved to only be a few hundred meters long and it was not long before Thrawn noted a gradual brightening up ahead.  Soon he could make out a doorway.  It was just a few meters more and he found himself in a large room, at the center of which was the large platform Poth had spoken of.  It appeared to be hewn from the same black rock from which the temple was constructed. 

Thrawn paused and then entered the room.  He noted the floor now had a springy, spongey feel, giving way slightly underneath his footsteps.  Daylight filtered in a diffused haze, slitting through skylights high above.  It was through these skylights that gave passage to rainfall and organic detritus which littered the temple’s floor.

Thrawn drew a deep, steadying breath and then made his way purposefully towards the platform.  He was sure to hold his head high and place his steps confidently, just in case he was under observation. As he made his way, Thrawn scanned the chamber to fully appreciate his surroundings.   While the exterior of the temple was devoid of any carvings or adornment, Thrawn noted that the interior was a different story.  Elaborate glyphs filled the walls in neat rows from floor to as high as he could see up towards the ceiling.  Thrawn could not begin discern the language for it was far too ancient and beyond anything he had ever seen in all his studies.  The carvings were beautifully wrought, carved with an almost mechanical precision looping and curving in an unreadable litany upon the walls.  Thrawn’s stomach tingled with excitement.  Something new to learn, to discover. _I must know the story they tell._  He wondered if Poth knew what was written and would be willing to offer a transcription for Thrawn’s more leisurely study.

Thrawn closed the distance to the raised platform and ascended the steps to stand upon it.  

The atmosphere seemed to change around Thrawn the moment he stepped upon the smooth stone of the platform. There seemed to be a strange energy and with each breath he drew, it seemed that his blood became infused with it.  He could almost visualize the exchange of oxygen to his blood.  His fingers tingled and his scalp prickled.  His heart thundered in his chest.     

He felt invincible.

Again he cast a cautious glance about.  So what now?  He was standing quietly upon the platform just as Poth had instructed.  Did he merely stand here?  Did he hail a greeting?  Was this…Majesty or whatever it was called, even know he was here? Poth seemed to stress the humility aspect.  Thrawn did not savor the idea of standing here for an unknown period of time awaiting an audience with this being.  If he was gone too long Rukh would get antsy and that probably would not end well for the Mira’thiri.

Thrawn allowed his breath to hiss between his lips as his eyes again hungrily swept over the glyphs. He was hit with the realization that whatever it was that was housed here was incredibly old and would still be here long after Thrawn’s bones were dust and his name long forgotten.

For some reason this revelation at the same time humbled and angered him.

A wet, slick noise cut through Thrawn’s thoughts and he immediately tensed, turning his body to the sound and then recoiling as he observed as a set of thick appendages slowly erupted from the floor.  Slick and gleaming in the half-light they arose like a set of serpents preparing to strike.   Two more appeared directly in front of the platform. Then three more and before Thrawn knew it the platform was braced on all sides by undulating…tentacles. They appeared to be blue black on the dorsal side with vibrant pinkish orange undersides.  Their bases were as thick around as Thrawn’s body and tapered elegantly to a prehensile, sinuous end that twitched and writhed in a hypnotic fashion.

Poth’s warning echoed in Thrawn’s mind.  _Do not leave the platform until your commune is finished. You will die._

Thrawn watched as the appendages continued their undulating dance.  Their movements were not in any way threatening, at least not yet. It seemed more as if they were observing and sensing.  

After a few heartbeats, one of the tentacles, the first to have emerged, cautiously approached Thrawn.   He willed himself to remain still as the appendage stopped just short of touching him.  Thrawn forced himself to breathe slow and even, standing tall as he watched the tentacle make its cautious approach, finally closing the distance to tentatively press against his chest.  The touch was gentle, even timid, and when it detected no threat it pressed with more force, seeming curious at the rough material of Thrawn’s tunic.  It lay there as if it were either feeling or listening to Thrawn’s heartbeat.  The tentacle stayed there, pressed against Thrawn’s chest for a few moments, quivering ever so slightly, its slick blue-black surface shimmering.  It had to be a trick of the light but Thrawn could swear he saw…stars.  The longer he stared the deeper he fell into the illusion.  Stars and galaxies, yes.  He saw them right there, seemingly held captive in the tentacle.  Thrawn gasped softly.

The trap sprung.  Before Thrawn could react four of the appendages acted in concert, catching him fast by his arms and legs, pulling tight to lift him from the platform and spread him wide.  Grunting, Thrawn struggled in vain against the thick ropes of muscle.  It was useless. Their grip was like a vice.

He felt it then…something cold, ancient, and incredibly powerful pushing into his head, his heart, and his very essence.  A voice pressed in, speaking in a tongue Thrawn could not begin to understand. It was as cold and sharp as starlight, a stark contrast to the warmth and moisture that surrounded him. Thrawn knew he was being asked a question but before he could voice his confusion, and ask clarification, the words shifted into basic.

In a low, cold whisper the voice hissed, “ _What do you seek?  Why have you disturbed my rest Son of the Starssss?”_

Ceasing his useless struggle and steeling himself Thrawn responded, “I come for knowledge.  I want to know how to bring ruin to my enemies.”  When the creature did not respond, he pressed on, “I want to bring them to their knees. I want my name to stir awe and dread for generation upon generation.”  Thrawn then tilted his chin defiantly.

Silence and then the tentacles tightened, forcing Thrawn’s legs and arms even wider until his joints creaked with the strain. Two more appendages then joined to encircle Thrawn’s waist so he was now completely suspended and held secure.   One by one each tentacle came together to form a writhing, living hammock.

The star cold voice again hissed in his head.

_“A warrior then?  You came from nothing.  Are nothing, Son of the Starsss.”_

Thrawn snarled and renewed his struggle against the creatures grip.  Thrawn’s mind worked furiously.  He had been tricked.  This was not a commune…it was a sacrifice. This was a trap and he was going to be torn apart, limb by limb, devoured by this hideous thing and there was not one thing he could do about it.  He could try to summon Rukh but it was doubtful the Noghri would be able to hear his plea thanks to the thick stone and distance.

“ _You seek to dominate. To conquer.”_  The voice was a silver knife in his head. Piercing and slicing.  Thrawn winced.  The presence pushed further. Deeper. 

There was a pause and if seemed as if this being gathered a great, shuddering breath.

_“Your glory shall be your ruin, Son of the Starssss.”_

Thrawn hissed in rage as the appendages tightened their grip in emphasis.  His muscles bunched and flexed in an attempt to escape but it was to no avail. Thrawn was pinioned, helpless, and rapidly losing strength.

A smaller, thinner appendage then came into view.  It sinuously coiled and twitched as it slid up from between Thrawn’s legs.  It paused, weaving slightly to and fro before gliding up Thrawn’s chest.  Faster than lighting it struck out, wrapping around Thrawn’s throat in a snug hold but not the point of restricting airflow.  The prehensile tip flickered and teased at his flushed skin, the action almost sensual.   

Thrawn tried to crane his neck up and away from the encroaching tentacle, but its hold upon his neck was fast and true and there was no way for him to avoid its exploratory touch. 

The appendage extended its way to Thrawn’s lips, gently tracing their outline with its quivering tip and then, to Thrawn’s horror, pushing its way past them and slipping fully into his mouth.   It was warm and tasted an odd combination of tart and sweet, like fruit that was not quite ripe.  The tentacle pushed and slid obscenely in the confines of Thrawn’s mouth before withdrawing so the tip could flutter and tease Thrawn’s tongue in a mockery of a kiss.

Almost immediately Thrawn felt his limbs grow heavy.  His mind began to cloud and the sense of panic seemed to evaporate. Thrawn surmised the beast must exude a chemical in it secretions to calm its victims into compliance.  

 _“Let go. Surrender. To control…surrenderrrr.”_  The ancient voice slid and roiled in Thrawn’s mind.  As the voice spoke in its strange hissing cadence, more tentacles erupted from the floor to join in the exploration of his body.  With surprising skill and dexterity they unfastened his belt and trousers, opened his tunic to lay bare his chest revealing taunt blue skin sheened with sweat. This seemed to push the tentacles into a frenzy as they slid upon the sweat slicked skin, greedily jostling for prime position as they desperately sought out bare flesh to press and flutter against.

His body was now slack, relaxed, and compliant but to his shame and horror Thrawn felt his cock begin to harden, growing thick and hot in the restrictive fabric of his trousers.   As if sensing this growing arousal, one of the tentacles pushed its way eagerly down the front of the open trousers to first flutter against and then coil around the engorged length.  A brief pause and then it began to slide against and then gently twined around Thrawn’s cock, rhythmically squeezing and caressing the hard length in torturous milking fashion.

At this gentle squeezing sensation upon his sensitive flesh, Thrawn tried to moan but with his mouth crammed full of slick tentacle, no sound could escape.  Only a muffled sigh.

Thrawn’s mind was in a haze of ecstasy as the tentacles then began their assault in earnest. A pair teased and tormented his nipples, first squeezing and then sharply flicking them until they rose into sharp buds at the attention.  Yet another searching tentacle, as thick as an arm, slid about Thrawn’s trim waist, eagerly slithering down into his trousers to join the efforts of its companion.  The first tentacle had created a warm, slick sheath while the newcomer’s prehensile tip lazed over the leaking cockhead. It gently tracing the slit, seeming to revel in the sticky evidence of Thrawn’s desire it found gathered there like nectar. 

As his cock was tended to, still another tentacle tilted Thrawn’s chin gently upward, caressing and lingering along his jawline like a curious, doting, lover.  Thrawn lost track of exactly how many of the appendages were now ravishing him.   He could not speak. Could not move. His hazed mind found it hard to even form cohesive thought save for enjoying the sensations that seemed to be tripping over his nerve endings like sparks of lighting.

A soft groan rumbled in his throat as Thrawn bucked his hips shamelessly, seeking release.  His uniform was now fully undone and askew, the pristine white fabric rippling and shifting as the tentacles sought and explored his bare flesh underneath.  Very little of the white uniform, and indeed Thrawn’s body, was visible, as he was now almost completely wrapped by the pulsing, writhing mass of tentacles.

Thrawn’s body shuddered in pleasure as an inquisitive tentacle pushed its way between his legs, sliding and flicking hungrily at the tender span of flesh between balls and asshole before easing to pause against his tight entrance. Thrawn’s eyes widened and he offered a strangled, pleading moan, greedily angling his body so that the searching appendage had better ease of access. 

The tentacle held still, almost as if it were teasing before gently flickering the tapered tip up and down, with excruciating slowness, over the tight opening.  In doing so, its excretions slicked up Thrawn’s entrance, preparing it. 

Thrawn could feel the warmth of the fluid slipping slowly down the crease of his ass and he held his breath, trying to relax. He had never had this, never done this, and yet he wanted this with every fiber.  He whimpered softly, holding his breath and willing himself to relax.  

With a gentle, almost tender nudge, the tentacle eased its way past the tight ring of muscle.  Finding minimal resistance it slipped smoothly inside. Again it paused, allowing Thrawn to settle around it, to acclimate, before pushing forward, easing as deep as it could until it sensed that the girth was too much for Thrawn to handle. 

Thrawn closed his eyes as he tilted his head back in sheer pleasure.  A tentacle gently fluttered along his jawline, attentive and soothing.  He had never been filled in such a way. _Possessed_ in such a way.  When he fucked, he was always in control. Always.  His pleasure came first.  Thrawn’s ass was stretched to the point it burned but he found it was a knife’s edge of pleasure and pain, white hot and coiling in his belly.

Thrawn whimpered softly.  Mewling.  _Begging_.  He wanted more, wanted his ass and his mouth filled and fucked until he was spent. He wanted to be claimed.  To be possessed.

Sensing that Thrawn’s ass was now open and relaxed, and sensing Thrawn’s carnal need, the tentacle began to pulse gently as it pushed its length in and then slowly withdrew.  With each lazy push it managed to get just a little bit deeper, each press allowing Thrawn to take just a little bit more girth.   As Thrawn’s ass was slowly fucked, the other tentacles continued to stroke and tease his cock and press into his mouth. 

Thrawn whimpered as he felt the orgasm begin to build, a hot tight ball in his guts that was frightening in its ferocity.  As if sensing that he was approaching the threshold, the tentacles increased both speed and pressure of their touch.  As if feeding off of the energy of Thrawn’s encroaching release, the tentacles writhed and began to secrete even more of the fluid to the point his body was now slicked with it and it began to fill his mouth with its tart sweetness.   Thrawn’s throat worked furiously as he swallowed to avoid gagging and yet still the fluid overflowed, seeping from the corners of his mouth to drool a glistening track down his jawline. 

The tentacle fucking his ass seemed to surge, increasing its pace and depth until the white hot burn flared into a delirious nova of pleasure.  The tentacle teasing pulling Thrawn’s cock increased its speed as well, pumping and pulling with long, firm strokes.  Everything seemed to flare white and with a muffled cry Thrawn spilled onto his belly, his come pearlescent and shimmering on the heaving cerulean flesh.

Overcome with wave of emotion, tears slid tracks down Thrawn’s cheeks as his orgasm, easily the most powerful he had ever experienced, cooled from an inferno to a soft warm haze of complete contentment.

Sensing that Thrawn had reached his climax all of the tentacles stilled, and then like a doting lover, gently brushed their flared ends over his body as they slowly withdrew their sensual assault.  Thrawn coughed and gasped as his mouth was cleared, jaw aching from the strain of being held open for so long. 

As the tentacle slowly eased from Thrawn’s his ass, he gave a soft cry of distress. The loss of connection was jarring not just in a physical sense but also spiritually.

With the tentacle’s grasp gone from Thrawn’s neck, he was able to crane his need and observe as smaller tentacles had begun to “taste” the come that had pooled on his chest and stomach.  They began to greedily slide over his essence, leaving the skin bare and cleansed.

Thrawn sagged back and let them do their work.

He felt reborn.   

Then, one by one the tentacles released him, gently easing his body back to the platform.  For all that he had been through, he noted his uniform was remarkably unspoiled.  The fabric was slightly damp but other than that none the worse for wear.

Once Thrawn was again upright and on his feet, all of the tentacles withdrew.  He tucked his soft length back into his trousers and got himself together, carefully fastening his belt and smoothing a few creases in his tunic as he warily watched the tentacles make their retreat until only the original two remained.

One approached and once again pressed a flanged end flat to Thrawn’s chest, listening and feeling his heartbeat.

 _“Thank you for your offering Son of the Starsss.”_   The cold voice hushed through Thrawn’s mind. _“You will now be remembered until the starssss burn to nothing.”_

Again Thrawn noted the strange swirling galaxies held in the depths of the tentacle.  A trick of the light?  That is what he wanted to believe.

He cleared his throat, unsure what to say of if he should even speak.  After a few moments, Thrawn straightened, and giving a curt nod murmured, “I thank you for your…time.”  Thrawn searched for the proper words. “My apologies at not being able to address you with your proper name.”  The creature was silent as it withdrew its appendage. Now only one tentacle remained, undulating in the thick air.

 _“My name is not for your tongue, Son of the Starsss.”_ There was a pause and then the Majesty continued _.  “Your glory will be your ruin.”_ As the being’s words faded, Thrawn felt the sensation of a sharp pain and a brilliant flash of light from behind his eyes.   He drew in a sharp intake of breath, feeling as if he had been slapped and his knees buckled slightly.

Thrawn found himself alone on the platform. It was still and silent.

The commune was over and Thrawn surmised it was safe for him to safely leave the platform.  He thought his body would be shaking after such an affair but, aside from his knees buckling after Majesty took its leave, he felt refreshed and rather invigorated, as though he had a deep, refreshing sleep.  The haze of his orgasm still clung pleasantly and in spite of being fucked rather vigorously, he found he was in no pain.  Thrawn’s cheeks flushed.  No one could _ever_ learn of what had happened to him here today.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thrawn carefully picked his way across the chamber, once more making his way through the dark dampness of the corridor, crossing once more into the bright light and fresh air where Rukh, Poth and his companions awaited him.

Poth nodded sagely.  “Did you find that which you sought?”

Thrawn nodded as he absentmindedly rubbed his jaw, “Yes. It was very...enlightening.  I thank you for your hospitality Poth.  You serve the Empire well.” 

Poth seemed to smile.  “Heed Majesty’s words, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

Thrawn again met Poth’s gaze and was taken aback. He had never noticed before but in the creatures eyes he saw what appeared to be…stars…held there.  Thrawn closed his eyes and when he again opened them he noted that Poth’s eyes were once more a watery grey.

A trick of the light was all.

Poth bowed. “Be well.”

Thrawn smiled stiffly and then shooting a glance to Rukh, he barked, “Rukh.  We are leaving.”

Thrawn could feel the stares of the Mira’thiri as he and Rukh picked their way back to the waiting shuttle. 

Thrawn sensed that Rukh seemed agitated.  Turning to face the Noghri, Thrawn murmured, “Yes?  What is it?  Is there a problem?”

“Forgiiive me, my lord,” Rukh hissed, “but you were only in the temple for a few minutes.  How issss it you could get what you needed in such a short time?”

A few minutes?  That was…impossible.  Thrawn then looked up and noted that the sun had barely tracked across the sky. It was in the same position as it had been when he had entered the temple. 

Rukh was correct, there was no way that more than 10 minutes had gone by.

Thrawn suppressed a chill and stole another glance over his shoulder, to where the Poth and his companions _should_ have been standing and observing them as they took their leave.  There was no one there.

Thrawn shuddered.

“Let’s go Rukh.  I want to get back to the Chimera. We are…done here.”

Suddenly the sun went dark.  Overhead the great winged beast had yet again cast its shadow upon Thrawn.  It ‘quoarked’ hoarsely as it banked and regarded Thrawn with its silver eye shot with stars before winging away to the east.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Here...have a cookie. Ok so I was really nervous writing this. I have never written tentacle porn, and to be honest was never a huge fan of it. Thanks to a few enablers I was encouraged to write and publish it. 
> 
> Oh and fun fact. The Talon is my star destroyer and the Ruination belongs to madfoot84.


End file.
